


Away

by probablyjuno



Series: W E A R E D E V I A N T [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Markus (Mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 08:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15703755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/probablyjuno/pseuds/probablyjuno
Summary: The government starts to wake up and Captain Fowler tells Hank and Connor to take a break while things settle down. Hank uses the power of coffee to figure out what to do. It's super effective.(description provided by the amazing AlCrevette)





	Away

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back everyone, and hi to new readers! I'm pleased to publish my second fic. This one directly follows the previous one (not necessary to understand this fic but makes more sense to read the first one before). I hope you'll enjoy it!

"You're late."   
  
Fowler's voice boomed through the entire precinct. The present officers barely looked away from their tasks, their boss’ fit of passion far from an uncommon display by now.

They quickly resumed their work, hovering in the department like working bees, deaf to their queen’s fiery complaints — they had nothing to fear, since this tone was reserved for that renegade grizzled bee who liked to sting for fun.    
  
"Never was an issue before," Hank retorted, eyebrows raised. 

 

He stopped in his tracks and began wandering away from his desk. Defying Fowler had almost become second nature to him. Coffee  — he needed coffee or soon the buzzing of the police station would have no choice but to stop. Indeed, Gavin was not the only one who  enjoyed such shows. Already, he was keeping his head up, revelling in the upcoming storm. But Hank wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of doing this. At least not in everyone’s face. If only doing their job was all they were interested in, but drama had a sweeter taste.   
  
Fowler’s voice was no longer cavernous but surgically sharp and it cut right through the air. 

 

"Well it is now. In my office.  _ Asap _ ."   
  
Hank sighed. Yes, he didn't like orders, but if there was something he hated more than that, it was  _ precisely _ orders accompanied by an unnecessary sense of urgency. The only reasons Hank eventually ever brings himself to obey are coffee and  _ time. _ Enough time for an inner monologue, and to forget (or omit) the origin of the instruction, eventually attributing it to himself by default. Which then made orders more bearable, although Hank couldn’t even stand being ordered around by himself. He liked just… living and shit. 

 

The lieutenant pursed his lips in contemplation, searching his authority-hating, coffee-loving brain for a source of appeasement. And so, he shuffled to the cafeteria. 

 

Preparing to loiter as much as possible, Hank ceremoniously began making himself coffee. He looked at Connor and playfully shrugged.

 

After adding so much sugar it could potentially kill someone, Hank took a few searing sips to remind himself he was supposed to be a human and not a bitter zombie. He then gently pushed away from the table and checked on Connor. The Android seemed thoughtful. He had been, ever since Hank first saw him today. 

The tie incident worried the lieutenant, and he wracked his brain to try and figure out  the potential origin of his concerns. 

 

“Too tight?” he asked, gesturing with his chin towards the tie. Connor had been pulling on it and rubbing his neck ever since they had left the house. 

 

Connor came out of his daze and fervently shook his head no. But he gave no smart-ass answer. 

 

Hank frowned. 

 

Connor’s attention seemed to be lost again, and absent-mindedly, he grabbed the cup of coffee. The Lieutenant  thought about complaining, but Connor seemed to need it more than Hank. And  _ that _ meant a lot. 

The Android brought the cup to his lips but did not quite let them touch the edge. Closing his eyes, he inhaled the fumes. His LED started glowing bright yellow. 

After just a few seconds, Hank watched as he opened his eyes, now focusing on the cup’s content. Gently, Connor shook the cup, mesmerized by the swirling liquid. A long meditative minute later, he blinked and studied the room, confused. Hank’s intense gaze brought him back to his senses, and so, the Android returned the coffee to his rightful owner. 

 

Connor’s eyes were no longer wandering, and it seemed he had finally recovered for good. 

 

His LED reverted to a peaceful blue.

 

Connor placed his hands on the table, and, cocking his head, he smiled. 

 

“We should return to Fowler.”

 

Hank mentally shivered, before shaking it off. Connor’s android smile still gave him the creeps sometimes. 

But Hank eventually hummed in agreement. He grabbed his cup and threw a puzzled look inside, before following Connor. 

 

The door to Fowler’s office opened again as they made their way up the stairs. 

 

"And bring the Android," he barked, before disappearing inside.   
  
This was clearly unnecessary, Connor always following Hank around, but the fact that Fowler felt the need to specify alarmed them both.   
  
Connor's LED shone in a single flash of yellow as he hypothesized about the potential reason for this unexpected summons. But the only data he was able to extract was how thick the thirium felt in his veins. His eyes fluttered as what-must-be-pain pulsed in his temples. 

His thoughts certainly had been soothed by coffee but the gnawing and the discomfort yet remained.

  
"You're going on a break," said the Captain as Connor closed the door. He emphasized each of his words, even more than usual, probably hoping it would help them sink into Hank’s thick skull and make this discussion brief.    
  
Hank was squirming in his chair, trying to make himself comfortable. At Fowler's words, he froze and looked up.    
  
"What?"   
  
The captain leaned back in his seat, and slowly rubbed his temples.    
  
"Order from above. Your involvement in the latest events mean we have to keep you away for a while. No hard feelings."   
  
"No hard feelings? My ass!"   
  
"Hank! Goddamnit!," he sighed and shook his head, "why do you always have to make things difficult? Like I said, the order is coming from above.” He shook his finger, pointing up. “That deviant leader is negotiating the terms of a truce with the President. Until this is over, you two have to take a break. We can't have you sticking your nose into any more deviant business until further notice."   
  
Hank huffed, ready to snap back at him, but instead took a sip of coffee. His entire self-control relied on caffeine.  _ Hell _ , caffeine allowed him to be somewhat human. Without it, he was just… Ugh. 

He thoughtfully sniffed and looked around, his attention resting on the glass panel. 

Hank got up and paced. Eventually, he paused and spoke.    
  
"How long?"   
  
Fowler shook his head again and pouted. "I have no fucking idea. Listen... You and the-”    
  
" _ Connor, _ " Hank cut in.   
  


Fowler bit his lip and surly nodded. 

  
"-you and  _ Connor _ did your job. You investigated the deviants just like we asked. But... We have doubts about the way you handled things. Many of the suspects managed to get away. Now, I'm not saying you let them go but... Well, I'm not stupid, Hank. Cyberlife refuses to transfer the reports but you're a good cop, despite what you like to pretend, so don't you dare tell me every single deviant vanished into thin air."   
  
Hank squinted, before ambling back to his chair. He pursed his lips and simply stared at him.   
  
Fowler sighed. "That's exactly what I mean. So do me a favor and leave. Go on some vacation or... Whatever. And... Well, the andr - Connor needs to remain in the area. We have no details yet but the government plans on granting deviants a special status, and that would require the identification of every single one of them. So we'll probably call him in for administrative purposes later."   
  
"Huh." Hank turned in his seat and asked: "What do you think of this, Connor?"   
  
Connor frowned. "I... I’m not sure." He gently shook his head.   
  
Hank bobbed his head. He turned back to Fowler and opened his mouth, before thinking about his next words.    
  
"Here’s to hoping you're not listing these poor Androids so you can better track them and… Well, you know,  _ get rid of them, _ " Hank toasted before downing his coffee. He spoke as if merely teasing but there was something else. This bugged him.    
  
"Hank. I don't fucking know what they're doing up there and honestly? I don't give a fuck. Connor has been helpful, and I don't have anything against him or any other Android, as long as they don't give us more work, okay? We're going to be extremely busy registering every goddamn Android in the vicinity. So as long as they don't go around killing people, I don't care. Enough paper as it is."   
  
"Markus will never accept something that could be harmful to Androids. Jericho trusted him to be their leader, and so do I now.”    
  
Hank thought before nodding, apparently agreeing.    
  
"See? Everyone's happy. Now  _ out _ ."    
  
Hank studied Fowler for a few seconds before looking down and shaking his head. He eventually pushed up, out of his seat, and swaggered out of the room.    
  


Connor turned around to Fowler. He looked ready to say something, but his gaze wandered to the side, and he left.    
  
"So what do we do now?," Connor asked, genuinely at a loss.    
  
Hank looked at the ground, searching for an answer. He furrowed his brows.    
  
"We get you the hell out of this place."    
  
"But -"    
  
"I know what he said, but... I don't know Connor, I trust your friend. But I don't like this ID business and... Things might still be shitty here for a while. So... We'll just get away for a little. Not far. Just... Away."   
  
Connor's features twisted. His LED flashed red, then back to yellow as he processed the offer. He stared in the distance and Hank patiently observed him.    
  
"I have found  _ one _ residence to be sold in the surroundings of Detroit. In the country."   
  
Hank huffed. He threw his cup in the bin before placing his fists on his hips. Squinting, he considered the idea.   
  
"Well," he started walking, “ _ Let’s go then _ .”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks a lot for reading! Kudos and comments are, of course, always appreciated, and I will answer all of them <3 
> 
> Again, I'd like to thank AlCrevette for beta reading, editing and providing the summary!


End file.
